


Someone Nice

by halocline_nymph



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Amnesia, Cute, Dream Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, Secret Relationship, Shame, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halocline_nymph/pseuds/halocline_nymph
Summary: Villetta finally convinces Ohgi that he doesn't need to be such a good guy all the time. Takes place sometime a little after he finds her but a little before the school festival episode.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic of any kind! I hope you enjoy it! I just love this ship so much and I think it is tragically underrated.

Ohgi stared at his living room ceiling, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch. How could he sleep while this woman was in his home? She could be dangerous and he knew it. He was crazy to take in a beautiful, clearly upper-class Britannian woman just because she said she couldn't remember who she was. Christ, she looked like she could be royalty. But how could he turn her away? She was all alone, and so disarmingly sweet. He was not the kind of man to sleep in his bed while a woman, his guest, took the couch, despite her attempts at politeness. But enough nights had passed like this that his back and limbs were starting to feel like garbage, and that wasn’t the only reason that he hadn’t had a decent night of sleep since she arrived.

He turned onto his side, scrunching his long legs to fit on the couch. What did not help with the situation was the looks he kept catching her giving him. The sideways glances over breakfast, the dreamy stares while she thought he was reading. It made sense, he knew, for her to get attached to him like that. He had found her and helped her, and she had no other source of stability in the world right now, not to mention that they were living in close quarters. But he knew something like that would do neither of them any good, and he could only imagine how she might feel about it if she ever got her memory back. So when he felt her eyes on him, he always turned away or broke the silence with a clumsy joke. She would smile to herself, seeming unfazed. The thought of it now made him blush. 

He forced his mind to contemplate less troubling matters, like the fate of his nation. His thoughts grew repetitive and he finally slipped into a shallow sleep. In his fleeting snatches of dreams, she was always there: sometimes handing him a plate of freshly baked cookies, sometimes pointing a gun in his face, sometimes holding his hand while they both ran from hungry lions. And sometimes he was watching her bathe, standing frozen as one does sometimes in dreams, while she called his name and begged him to join her. He awoke feeling guilty and unsatisfied as usual. When she gave him his breakfast, he almost dropped the plate in his efforts not to allow their hands to touch. If he had let himself look her in the eye, he would have seen that she looked confused, and a little hurt.

But when he got home that day, he could tell something was wrong. She looked like she had been crying. 

She was still too afraid to leave the apartment, and she had heard gunshots nearby. She didn't know where to go, and it was awful to be alone in the house. When he came in, he could see something open and broken about her, the way she looked at him. There was no dinner ready like there usually was when he got home. She was just sitting at the table with her head in her hands. "Chigusa, what happened? What's wrong?" She looked embarrassed, trying to hide how relieved she was to see him. "I'm fine, I'm really fine. Nothing happened. It... I just got scared today. I thought you would never come back." Her shoulders slumped with the admission. He felt a sting of regret for the way he had acted that morning. He knew what a soul in pain looked like, and this woman was not putting on any kind of act. 

He took her by the hand and pulled her up from her seat. For the first time in all these days of avoiding looking and avoiding touching, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. "I won't leave you, Chigusa. You don't have to be scared." Of course she should be scared. He was hiding her from his own country and allies, and she might be hiding from hers as well. Either one of them would be in deep shit if anyone they knew found out about this, he was pretty sure. But he could see so much fear and sadness in her, and he was only human too, after all. He held her firmly and she rested her exhausted head on his chest. He couldn't keep himself from noticing how small her body felt between his arms, how strong and how vulnerable. Meanwhile, she was hoping he didn't see the blush creeping over her cheeks. She couldn't help it if his arms felt amazing around her. She knew he was just being nice. 

He was ashamed of the feeling of euphoria that was crashing through his body, but she really seemed like she needed this... right? Suddenly he felt her stiffen and pull away from him. He loosened his arms, terrified that he had done something wrong. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—“ he faltered, noticing that her face looked not frightened or offended, but rather embarrassed. He didn’t know how to respond, so he reached out for her hand, and she gave it. “Chigusa, it’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m here. You can let your guard down.” Finally she collapsed against him, shuddering with quiet sobs as he awkwardly patted her shoulders. He led her to the couch and sat down next to her, cradling her shaking body, timidly stroking the long, silvery hair that hung loose all around her. They fell asleep like that, with her resting on his chest, his shirt soaked in her tears. 

A few hours later, she was the first to wake up. She realized with a start where she was, why she felt so warm. She was sweaty from his body heat, her hair sticking to her neck. She tried to slip out of his arms without disturbing his sleep, but he awoke, startled by her movement, and then immediately looked sheepish and let go of her and scooted hastily apart from her on the couch. “Oh—that’s, of course, if you’re feeling better,” he stammered, but she turned to him and he saw something new in her eyes: boldness. He had never seen her look like that before. “I am feeling better, actually,” she said with a half-smile. “Thanks to you, Oghi.” She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. His heart raced at her touch. He faltered, and she held up her finger. “I know what you’re going to say, Oghi. It’s been written all over your face. It wouldn’t be right, I’ve been through so much, how can I even know what I want when I don’t know who I am. And I know you have to think that way, because you’re a good man. But listen to me: I am a person, and I’m here right now, and I know what I want. I don’t know what the real me would think. But I’m the one who’s here right now, and I need this.” 

He searched her face and found nothing but honesty. Loneliness and fear laid bare, but a strong soul still standing firm. Something finally broke in him (a person can only be so virtuous, and it wasn’t like he didn’t need some comfort too) and he let himself do the thing he had been trying so hard not to do all along: he looked at her mouth, the perfect dent in her upper lip, the lovely pink tint, and that was the last of his resolve. He didn’t remember leaning in, but he found his lips on hers, his hands grasping her waist, his fingers meeting at the indentation in the middle of her lower back that he had seen, once, accidentally, when he was trying to dress her with his eyes closed, before she woke up, and had not been able to forget ever since. The feeling was surreal. Everything had been surreal, since he found her, since she woke up. 

At that thought, he had one last crisis of conscience, when his mind caught up with his hands and his mouth and he realized that he was touching her, not even timidly, and kissing her, not even chastely. He pulled back suddenly, taking a deep breath, and said, “This is really okay?”

She looked incredibly annoyed. “God damn it Ohgi, I have nothing right now, let me make a decision,” she snapped. It occurred to him that she didn’t sound helpless or sweet. She sounded like someone in the habit of giving orders. And that, weirdly, was the thing that made him relax. 

She moved to straddle him on the couch, surprised to find that she felt perfectly natural and sure of herself. When had she learned this? She had no idea. She pulled his worn t-shirt over his head and ran her fingers over his muscular chest, feeling with satisfaction the lines she had been sneaking glances at all week. Now she was the one who was surprised to see the glint of boldness in his eyes, since he had certainly been tiptoeing around her the whole time she had been living with him. 

He couldn’t believe the way she was looking at him. At his body. No one had looked at him that way in… well. His body had been nothing but a soldier for the Black Knights in quite a long time. He also couldn’t believe he was just allowed to want things all of a sudden. If she got to see his chest, well then. She was wearing an old flannel he had given her. Too many damn buttons. It was his anyway. He could find another old shirt for her. He grabbed the front of it and ripped it open, sending buttons flying. She gasped at his quick movement, then giggled, then shivered at the sudden cold. 

It was so effing cute. Now that he was letting himself look at her, he couldn’t stop noticing things about her. The way her skin was like honey, her toned arms, the dimple of her belly button, her breasts, holy hell, her smooth, full breasts, and the way her nipples were standing out, the tiny goosebumps… she looked cold, now that he thought about it, so he covered her breasts with his hands, which were really warm for some reason, and he was also suddenly aware that his dick was straining against his pants, and that she could definitely feel it too, the way she was sitting. And even after all that, he was still surprised to feel her rock her hips against him, lean into his touch, tangle her hands in his hair, and push his head back to kiss him again, but she was leading this time. She seemed almost angry, biting his lip a little and pulling his hair almost too hard, and it felt incredible, but then he felt tears dripping down her face again. He didn’t want to piss her off more, but he didn’t know what to do. He broke from the kiss but kept his eyes locked on hers, kept his hands firm on the sides of her face, and she said quickly, before he could ask anything, “Look, don’t worry. I’m not—it’s not because of you or anything, I just, it’s the first time I’ve really let myself feel anything since you found me, and there’s so much…” He nodded seriously, still holding eye contact. “I understand. I’ll try to drown out the noise.” 

She felt like a bit of a basket case, after being so dramatic about how okay and in control she was, and being so aggressive physically, and then breaking down like that, but fortunately he didn’t give her long to think about it, he just stood up, holding her by the ass, and she laughed as she scrambled to wrap her arms tightly around his neck and her legs around his torso. He carried her like that to the bedroom, but before they even got to the bed, he pressed her back up against the wall, supporting her thighs now. She moaned at the pressure, desperate now for friction. She unwrapped her legs from around him and stood on the ground for long enough to take off the loose shorts he had lent her. 

He saw her bend down to pull the shorts off, revealing the firm curve of her ass. His cock was straining even harder and he realized with relief that it was fine to take his pants off now. She stood back up, looking shy all of a sudden, now that she was naked. He unbuttoned his pants and heard her gasp as his by now extremely hard dick sprang out. He pulled his pants off quickly, wanting to break the tension as soon as he could. She backed up into the bed, perched on the edge of it, and opened her legs to him again. And there she went looking bold again. He stood over her, feeling awfully powerful, eyeing her swollen breasts and cunt. He pressed his dick against her labia, sighing as he felt the warm slickness of her, but didn’t penetrate yet, just running his tip along the surface, in circles around her clit, savoring the moisture and her responses, now groaning, now swearing. When he couldn’t stand another second of it, he pushed into her entrance, lowering himself slowly, watching her eyes almost glaze over as he filled her tight cunt. He was still standing, her legs were around his waist again, and she was lying all the way back on the bed now. He took hold of her shoulders, holding her in place as he began thrusting, slowly and deliberately at first, but soon slamming into her with abandon while she scratched at his arms and chest. Every time he buried himself in her, he got a little moan out of her. 

He stopped and pulled out abruptly, and she whined in protest until she felt him running his cock over her clit again, now even hotter and wetter from being inside her. She almost wailed, the unexpected change felt so good. After a few seconds he slid back inside her, and that made her yell too. Every sensation felt so extreme right now. She could tell he was watching her carefully, but she was in way too deep to feel any self-consciousness. He pinched one of her nipples, twisting it back and forth, and that felt like fire too. He pulled out and rubbed up against her clit again, and this time she flew right off the edge she was running towards, and she was just flying. 

When he saw every muscle in her body tense up, her face twisted with feeling, and her now soft, wet pussy pulsated around his shaft, he squeezed both of her breasts hard, slamming his hips into hers just a few more times before he was flying too, thrusting and thrusting into her erratically until he had spent it all, and then slid out of her, rubbing against her dripping folds one last time, which made them both shudder. For a weird moment, their eyes met, and neither one of them knew what to do. Then she smiled. “Hmm, thank goodness,” she sighed teasingly. “Anyone could have picked me up out there, but I got someone nice.” He laughed and laid down next to her, gathering her up in his arms like before, and listened to her breathing become slow and even. 

He stared into the darkness for a while. He was amazed, ecstatic, but his last thought before losing consciousness was: What am I doing?


	2. Stress Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An upsetting dream leads Villetta to seek comfort from her new bedmate. 
> 
> CW: Ambiguous consent (but in a dream).

Villetta was dreaming. It might have been a nightmare, but she knew she couldn’t call it that, not really.

 

She was lying naked on a paper-covered examination table in a doctor’s office. Ohgi was there, standing over her, also naked. He took her legs, positioned himself between them, slid his hard cock into her. She moaned at the sudden and slightly rough entrance. He met her eyes and grinned teasingly.

But they were not alone. Another man was there, watching, a man with blue hair and orange eyes, wearing a white lab coat. As Ohgi picked up rhythm, standing at the edge of the table and thrusting into her ready cunt, he seemed unaware of their observer. 

The man spoke, his voice deep and commanding. 

“What are you doing, Villetta? You’re not undercover. What makes you think you can let a dirty eleven fuck you like this?” She shifted slightly to meet the eyes of the new man, all the while instinctively wrapping her legs around dream-Ohgi’s waist, opening her thighs even wider to allow him to thrust deeper inside her, causing the paper under her to crumple and crease. The orange-eyed man was sneering.

“Look at you, enjoying this. I thought you were a Britannian woman of good stock. Look at you spreading your legs for this degenerate. I should have known.”

She tried to ignore the man, focusing instead on the body that pressed her to the table. Dream-Ohgi was on top of her now, kneading her breasts and kissing her neck, biting her neck, breathing on her neck, making her shudder with a feeling that was part claustrophobia and part… something else. He was oblivious to the man glaring at them, far less inhibited than he ever was with her in reality. Her legs splayed helplessly off the edges of the table. He pounded into her soft, open slit, pinching her nipple, and the look in his eyes was hungry, not concerned. She closed her eyes and let her body move in time with his. But the orange-eyed man was still there. 

“I just don’t believe this,” he complained, his voice dripping with scorn. Her face burned, her scalp and neck prickled and itched, and she squirmed under the weight of dream-Ohgi, a man barely more familiar to her than the commentator with orange eyes. But her squirming only opened her wider and tickled her deeper, and dream-Ohgi, who was not much like real-life-Ohgi in terms of personality, smirked and grabbed her wrists, pinning her firmly to the table as he dug deeper and deeper into her willing pussy. She strained against his strong hands, but they were so much bigger than her tiny wrists, and he easily grabbed her and pinned her back down, hurting her just enough to make her gasp. It was a strange feeling, being so powerless in front of whoever this orange-eyed man was, who seemed so important and serious. She couldn’t get enough of it. Ohgi’s rhythm tugged at her heartbeat, tugged at all of her senses, and she felt herself beginning to let go of all her persistent, unnecessary thoughts.

“Don’t you dare,” barked the orange-eyed man, poised inches away from their bliss. “If you come for him—I swear, if you let him make you come, if you let him dump his filthy eleven seed inside your pure Britannian body, and if that feels good to you—well, you’re more ruined than I even thought possible. Don’t. You. Dare.” His fiery eyes bored into her, but she knew it was over already. Dream-Ohgi’s pace, his forcefulness, had already enveloped her, and it wasn’t even a matter of will anymore. She knew that as soon as his burning hot, wet semen flowed into her, her body would be too satisfied not to rejoice. And he did, he filled up her thirsty cunt, cursing like a sailor, and she tensed and released, tensed and released, yelling in dismay.

But the moment was repeating itself, different each time. Now dream-Ohgi pulled out a few seconds early, straddling her chest and stroking himself unashamedly until he sprayed his “filthy eleven seed” all over her tits, staring down at her with disdain, the white drops clinging to her hard nipples and pooling on her bare chest. Now he was inside her mouth, shoving himself down her throat with abandon, his eyes almost rolling back in his head as he braced himself against the wall behind her and thrust into her open throat, which she kept open and did not gag, until he emptied all of his salty, sticky cum right into her face. She drank it down, tears streaming from her eyes as the orange-eyed man heckled her.

“Oh, no. Oh, no. I can’t bear to see you like this, Villetta. I just, I never would have thought this of you! You’re a good pilot, a loyal subordinate, you care about the cause! I can—not—bear—” Through the haze of her orgasm (or multiple orgasms? It wasn’t really clear anymore), she saw that the orange-eyed man was not the only one in the room anymore. A whole crowd of blond, pale men wearing white lab coats eyed her, muttering with disapproval, some of them laughing under their breath.

“Of course she would—”

“This is why we have to keep them separate—”

“This is why women can’t be trusted—”

And, as she crested for the last time, as dream-Ohgi thrust a few more times into her cunt, which was now already soaked in his semen, the man with the orange eyes whispered in her ear, “To think that I once ploughed those same fields. How embarrassing!” She was lost, gone in an impossible mixture of shame and pleasure, a feeling so intense that it woke her up.

Ah. Here she was. She wondered who the men in the dream were, but it didn’t matter. Her cunt was burning, and Ohgi, who in dreams had just sullied her whole body, inside and out, slumbered beside her. He was curled around her, his arm flung lazily across her chest, his half-hard cock pressing against her thigh. She did not hesitate, but followed the feeling, turning towards him and wrapping him in her legs. 

Ohgi woke up to the pleasant feeling of his lover straddling him. He was getting used to this by now. Without being fully awake, he reached to squeeze her breast and cup her ass. “Chigusa,” he mumbled, “Are you okay?” She rocked against him, grabbing his erection and rubbing it back and forth to spread her juices over her thirsty folds.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped, “I just need—some—I need—” She trailed off, but it was okay. He knew what she needed. He pushed all the way up into her astonishingly wet, hot cunt, and squeezed both of her breasts. She, remembering the way he had treated her in her dream, grabbed his wrists and pinned him down. He struggled just a bit, because he knew her well enough by now to know what she liked. She slammed her weight onto his arms, digging her small hands painfully into the muscles of his forearms. He glided seamlessly from sleep into bliss, allowing her fury to wash over him until he lost control and filled her up with semen. She yelled, cursed, bucked against him until he, defeated, held her, defeated, crouched over him with his softening cock still inside her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. He ran his hand up the small of her back. She moved gently to let him slide out of her, gasping when he, still wet with both of their juices, came to rest against her still-swollen clit. He slowly kissed the drying tear stains off of her temples and cheeks. 

“Fuck,” she muttered, sounding impatient like she sometimes sounded when they fucked, not sweet like she sounded the rest of the time. “I’m sorry I woke you up. It was an emergency.”

“Third emergency this week,” he chuckled.

She fell, exhausted, into his arms. But it was not her last dream of the night.


End file.
